Monsters, we are. Lest, Monsters we become

Where shall I begin? What began as a mere reference for a game I used to play, has grown into this. Something of an outlet for me, it has become more over the long months.

With the seasons changing, the air turning crisp and colder seem to beckon me into this retreat once more. So these next few months.. the Autumn is mine, my beauty to behold and my solace to share.

Walk with me and journey into my world, my passions and the life that I offer to share with you. This is no longer a creation of mine, but a community of kindred who share. It becomes yours, as each day passes and I’m in awe of you with each word and comment you post.
I want to share this with those of you who may not have read it.

Reprint from Mark Rein Hagen

They crowd our imagination. They hide under our beds. They lurk within the dark recesses of our primal unconsciousness. You can’t run and you can’t hide; it’s going to get you. The beast, the ravager, the Lusus Naturæ. What is it and why do we fear it ?

What is its name?

Always we have had our Fiends. They have long fired the romantic imagination of both priest and poet alike. At one time, we called them Trolls, they were later named Demons, and then they were Witches who brewed evil potions. Still later, the Monster was said to be the hungry Wolf, the Bogeman and the Godzilla of Cold War terror. Finally, some called it human ignorance and intolerance. For a time, they tried to tell us that Monsters didn’t exist at all, that everything about the universe was either known or would soon be known.

We humans are searchers, forever looking for the uncomfortable truths of our human condition. Searching within ourselves for that which is unclean, uncertain, impure — for that which has no name. By looking at the monsters we create, we gain new insight into our “darker half.” These fiends express what we are at the deepest and most inaccessible levels of our consciousness. Since time immemorial, they have given us a connection to our animal self — the fulfillment of unadulterated, emotional vitality and the promise of brutal justice.

Just as the hero of legend must descend into the pit of Purgatory to face his tormentor, to overcome personal weaknesses, and finally be cleansed to return home with the gift of fire, so must we descend into the depths of our own souls and return to life with the secrets we have won. That is the real journey of Prometheus. It is the meaning of the myth. Only by embarking on such a journey can we discover our true selves and look into the mirror.

The allure of this promise of spiritual connectivity is nigh to irresistable. But, in the end, it is a most disturbing undertaking. You must take heed and step carefully — for no journey is ever without its perils. Do not look into your own soul unless you are willing to confront what you find there.

So remember;

There are no such thing as Monsters…